


Love Songs

by Madame_Klancealot



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Music, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Cuban Lance (Voltron), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feelings, Gay Keith (Voltron), Hurt Keith (Voltron), Karaoke, Keith (Voltron) Angst, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Music, POV Keith (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Singing, Walk Into A Bar, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 08:00:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19459768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madame_Klancealot/pseuds/Madame_Klancealot
Summary: Keith has been dumped in the worst possible way and finds himself deleting every single love song he has on his phone. After some thought, he finds himself in a bar where he turns his attention to the voice of an angel singing a love song.





	Love Songs

**Author's Note:**

> Another drabble series I wrote on my IG. 
> 
> This was supposed to be one part, but escalated as it got popular with the readers and I got curious to see where the story was going and boom; this happened. 
> 
> Hope you like it!

_ Fuck it all. Fuck him, fuck the world, and fuck this fucking love song. _

Keith’s mind was swirling with anger at his boyfriend dumping his ass for nothing. Fine, Keith had been a total douche with his ex, but he didn’t have to go and sleep behind his back. He could have done it like the adults they are, but no, instead Keith had to find out they were done in the most horrifying way possible. 

He could see it as clear as a cloudless sky, how his bare ass was being fucked by someone else. Keith clicked his tongue at the sight crash landing in his mind as he walks down the street to find the nearest bar, music blaring loudly in his ears hoping his eardrums would burst any moment now. 

A new love song popped on, and Keith clicked his tongue louder tapping his phone hard to delete the song, and the next love song after that and the next.  _ Fuck love _ , he thought. 

Luckily, they hadn’t been going out for a long time. Only six months, but he did punch out the big L word and meant it, too, but apparently it didn’t mean squat to his ex and now love has become overrated and Keith hated everything that reminded him of the concept. 

Just when he thought he had deleted all of the love songs he had on his current playlist, a new one pops on and it brings him back to his ex. His smile, his face when he surprised him on his birthday with a homemade cake, but then a new sight flashes by and all he can see is his face being fuck by some other guy and everything is ruined.  _ Fuck it all,  _ he thinks and deletes the song, good riddance. 

Did he even need love? Keith was good on his own. All throughout high school and college, he was the emo, loner kid, sitting in the corners listening to My Chemical Romance and hating on the lovesick fools at his school, kissing in the corners or by the lockers, whispering sweet disgusting words to each other. Keith hated it. The only place words like that belonged were in love songs, not in the real world. Because the real world sucked. 

_ I don’t love you _ by MCR slides in his ears, and Keith doesn’t have the heart to delete it. Not only that, he doesn’t consider it a love song. It’s clearly a song that is meant to be filled with rage and hate towards one someone loves and he keeps listening to it letting his past emo heart materialize for the short four minutes of song. 

In the meantime, while wallowing in his heartbroken sorrows, he spots a purple neon sign with the words  _ happy hour _ and it steals Keith’s attention for a brief second and pulls him into the bar. 

He drags out his headphones, circling the cord into a neat ball and stuffs them in his pocket to order two shots of tequila, hoping the burn can replenish his wounds after being demolished to tiny pieces.

He downs the first shot, sucking in the juices of the lime set in front of him and for those two milli seconds the burn becomes a sudden bliss of freedom from everything that weighed him down; like love, like a certain ex boyfriend fucking someone who was not him. Then the burn is swallowed to ashes and the hurt is back, ready to bite him all over again. 

On the speakers, a new love song plays and Keith groans loud enough for the bartender to pour him two new shots and set two new slices of lime in front of him. Keith salutes the bartender with his third shot, and before he is met with that burning sense of bliss again, something else clenches his chest 

The board hanging on the tacky backdrop behind the stage in the bar reads  _ Open Mic Night _ and Keith thinks,  _ who the hell sings on open mic night, you’d have a death wish unless you’re a good singer.  _ It was either the tequila talking or his broken heart, but the voice that came out of the person singing could heal, oh how his voice could heal. 

Keith forgot about his ex for a good three minutes when the attractive tan man on the stage started singing a love song, one Keith hated. But when he and the tan man with those entrancing, no, alluring sapphire blue eyes pinning him on his seat, making him stay seated, forgetting about his shots, forgetting about why he was even in this bar, caught gazes. All he wanted to do was stare deeply at that man singing, and for once ever since this stupid day started, Keith didn’t mind listening to a love song. 

* * *

Saturday nights at Blue Lion Bar was where it was at. Where Lance could finally show off his talent in this twisted tedious town. Granted, he was able to utilize his skill at work during the weekdays, but it just wasn’t the same like when he used it at the Blue Lion Bar. Because being here felt like magic, and Lance loved performing magic. 

Standing on the tiny stage with the tacky backdrop of palm trees and staring out at a half full bar full of drunken sad saps, singing at the top of his lungs every Saturday, caused his hectic life to calm down for a hot minute. Didn't sound like much, but it was his remedy. It was his form of solitude since he couldn’t just up and walk away from this town. 

Home. The small town Altea was and will always be home to Lance. Where his family lived. Where he grew up with his best friends, and where he worked. He couldn’t quit his job when he knew how good at it he was. Not only that, he would have let down a lot of people if he suddenly one day just up and left his home to travel the world and become a famous singer…

He scoffed at the thought before he took his rightful place behind the microphone stand on the small stage, ready to sing a new song like he did the Saturday before that and the Saturday before that, when this little showdown of pure lost joy all started for him. 

Coincidentally, Lance was bored out of his mind one night after one of his longer sessions at work. His client was a hardass on him that evening and wouldn’t leave until he perfected a falsetto, and he took forever in Lance’s opinion. But once his client was able to muster a semi-perfect falsetto, he finally let Lance go and thanked him a million for the wonderful help. And that was all Lance ever needed to hear to keep him chained to this town. 

He loved being needed, and he loved having something to offer. Offering vocal help has been a godsend for him, it helped pick him up from the dark past he had. Song has always been his savior, but being able to sing music in front of strangers to lighten up their own dark selves has always been what Lance has needed from time to time. 

Working has also been a help, but it just hasn’t been enough for him. What with being single as fuck, having a hard time finding a partner to spend time with in this little town of hopelessness, not that he was trying either though. He had too much on his plate lately, with a large family to take care of, a best friend who’s going through rehab and needs extra attention and then work stealing, in often cases, more than 9 hours a day from him giving him hardly any time for self care. 

Therefore, these Saturday nights at Blue Lion Bar with their open mic nights, no one he knew close in his proximity, Lance could be lost in song for only a couple minutes and feel free. Fine, this was only night number 3, but he knew this wasn’t going to be a 3 time thing. After the first night when he stumbled upon this bar, never being a drinker himself, unless he was home alone in his cold apartment with his cat, Red, drinking his sad life away, he finally felt a sense of belonging.

Here, at Blue Lion, the people who usually took space here, always welcomed Lance with open arms and a spectacular response to his singing. The owner, Ryan, he pushed Lance to come again the next Saturday and sing them a new song, and he did. Now, he was back for round 3 and ready for action, ready to let go of the rest of the world for a blissful four minutes.

Song choice was always difficult, because Lance generally loved all music. But in that moment as he stood on the stage going through the song choices, he caught a twin soul reaping away by the bar, drowning his sorrows down with an alcoholic burn.

Heartbreak. It was written all over the raven haired man's gorgeous, mystical face. Indigo eyes twinkling in sadness, desperate to leave this hellhole, just like Lance. The man hadn’t noticed Lance yet, being too busy shooting a new shot of tequila down his long throat, and another, and there goes number three in less than a minute. Guy definitely needed some uplifting and what other than having Lance sing a love song?

A smirk broke on Lance’s tan face, and he knew exactly which song he wanted to sing, hoping it would lift the man’s spirit, at least for four minutes of his current sorrowful life. 

Still staring at the man, Lance was curious. How has he never seen him before? This was a small town, everyone practically knew everyone and Lance would have definitely remembered a gorgeous man with hair like that. A freaking mullet of all hairstyles.  _ That’s certainly nothing to forget, _ Lance thought as he found a karaoke version of the song he wanted to sing. 

The music to _Drops of Jupiter,_ one of Lance’s favorite to sing, started playing, tingles shooting in his fingertips when he grabs hold of the mic stand, lips almost touching the microphone when he locks eyes with the raven haired man at the bar and opens his mouth to sing. 

_ But tell me  _

_ did you sail across the sun _

_ Did you make it to the Milky Way  _

_ to see the lights all faded _

_ And that heaven is overrated? _

He sings his heart out during the chorus, never breaking his gaze with the man, smiling blissfully when he hits the high notes effortlessly, enjoying the music soothing the suppressed pain deep within his warm chest, forgetting all the havoc going on in his life except for the music. Music was his remedy, music made the pain go away, at least for a little while. 

The song fades to black and Lance is rewarded with a boom of applause from the, surprisingly, full bar tonight. His lips spread into a wide, happy grin, teeth shining brightly when he’s met with so many people who came to listen to him. Although, while receiving the pleasure of applause for his performance at a small bar in a tedious town, he never broke his gaze with the raven haired stranger and starts walking towards him.

* * *

While Lance sung, all he could think about when he had his blue eyes locked with pools of indigo, was how tortured the man looked. Even though he had a glimmer of hope sparkle when Lance sang, he could easily see the heartbreak reside within him; his lower lip quivering at certain parts of the song Lance sang loudly with a harmonic melody; how his bushy brows furrowed tragically, like someone plunged a knife through his chest. And that familiar pang of fire reaching his irises, burning brightly with anger. 

One thing was certainly clear looking at the tortured soul. He was the one who was dumped, and all Lance wanted to do while singing, was heal him. Heal him all better again with the sound of his voice. 

Sadness was something Lance was highly familiar with and two people didn’t need to share that boat. As he made his way towards the bar after his song, he cocked a crooked, playful grin at Ry behind the bar. “The usual, Ry.” Lance says, flashing a quick wink at the chocolate skinned man who, on instant, cracking a grin, rolls his eyes at Lance, mostly because this was only Lance’s third time here and he didn’t have a  _ usual, _ he just wanted to impress the man sitting next to him. And it showed. 

Ry slid a glass with something brown inside it to Lance, and Lance grabbed hold of the glass saluting the bartender with a finger gun and a click of tongue. This Lance was someone who seldom appeared as he never had a chance to wield his inner loverboy status anymore, not after, well, his life was a roller coaster let’s go with that. 

Lance craned his neck to the side, noticing that the man’s shot glasses were all empty, limes squeezed dry, like the red of the man’s lips. Lance had the sudden urge to moisten them up, but shook away the hot thought quickly. 

The man darted his eyes to Lance, that sparkle of hope shining back at him and Lance was sure there was a ghost of a smile touching his lips when they locked stares again. 

“Ry! How about one for…?” Lance quirked a thin brow up asking for the man’s name, his lips sliding to the side in wonder, leaning his cheek on one of his fingers, sizing the man up with pools of sapphire blue. 

The man caught the second sliding glass when Ryan made the drink, releasing a sharp nasally breath at Lance.

“Name’s not important.” He says and holds the glass up, as a thanks, and Lance does the same as they clink their glasses together. 

“Bottoms up.” Lance says and he just can’t look away at the man. 

A gracious burn tickles Lance’s throat as he hums a melody to a new love song, then dangles the glass with his fingertips still looking to the side. “How do I make it important?” He asks the man, taking a new sip of his drink, releasing a sharp breath from the new blazing burn of the alcohol finding its course down his throat. 

If there was one thing Lance wanted more than to leave this hellhole of a tedious town to become a famous singer, it was to see that confident, crooked grin spread on the raven haired man’s face again, because when that grin formed, Lance’s chest bloomed with fire all over and it didn’t stop. He wanted to jump out of his barstool and run for the stage to perform a million love songs only for the man to listen to and have him sing one back to Lance. 

Lance wanted love. He loved love, but love was so fucking unattainable where he was now in life that he wanted to take a jackhammer and point its tip hammering down every soul in this town who’s already found love. 

Jealousy was Lance’s middle name and he didn’t wear it well. 

Lost in the thought of love, Lance was brought back to his boring life, but there was a sliver of hope anchoring him down and it was that smile. Not a toothy one, but a twisted, corky, adorable smile that only belonged to the raven haired man. “How about another song?” He suggests, and suddenly a light bulb flickers on in Lance’s head. 

“Only if you sing along with me? Duo?” Lance proposes, and receives a loud scoff from the man sitting next to him. 

“Hell no. I can- _ not _ show myself up there, I’d become a laughing stalk.” The smile returned and Lance needed to take a mental picture. He blinked rapidly at the man, and knew it looked stupid, but damn, if his friends got a load of him, they’d understand his weirdness. 

Lance didn’t mind singing another solo, but he really, really wanted to get the man up there with him. He needed to know if he could sing or not. Because, first of all, if he could sing then Lance would be blessed with the night of earning himself by singing a duo with a gorgeous man and maybe,  _ maybe _ ask him out to sing again next Saturday. 

Second of all, if this plan fails and the man sucks at singing, Lance could just offer him vocal teaching and boom, they would have to meet again. This was basically a win-win situation and for once in Lance’s mediocre life, he felt wanted almost. Sure, he was always needed and he loved that, but when it came to love, he would give the world to experience it in all of its lovely glory. For once in his life, he didn’t want to be the needed one. 

This time, he wanted to be on the receiving end. 

He went for it. “Oh? You... chicken?” That drew out a look.  _ Bingo, now keep going. You got him where you want him, almost there, Lancey.  _

“Brrrock...brock, brroooock..” Lance imitates a chicken, flapping his arms like one in front of the man. 

Lance never thought heaven existed, but when he heard the man hoist out a loud, bubbly laugh, he thought he was done for. “Fuck this!” The man countered, staring intently at Lance with something new in his eyes, a flicker of trickery, perhaps. Sadness all evaporated and now replaced with, could that be? Why yes, there was a challenge in those indigo eyes of his. 

“You’re on!” He flashes a toothy grins and Lance loses his hold on his seat, but barely saves himself by twirling back to the stage like a ballerina dancer. 

Lance grabs a new mic stand and places it next to the one he used not that long ago. During his little flirting time slot, two people had been singing, but Lance hadn’t paid any attention, and when it came to song, he always paid attention. 

“You guys ready for a new song!?” Lance shouts through the microphone, and the bar is more lit than it was an hour ago. It has filled almost to the brim towards the exit and Ry made an approving smile at Lance, giving him a thumbs up, like they were already best buddies. 

The man grabbed his microphone, staring at it like it was some kind of foreign contraption. Maybe he never sang, maybe he hated singing and Lance would lose the opportunity to get to know him better after this. He prayed that their performance would do well, and that the man was still on for round two with Lance, because he certainly wasn’t done with him. 

Lance throws an arm around the man’s shoulder for a quick two seconds when he whispers in his ear, “Name’s Lance by the way, and it’s very important.” Then shoots himself back to his own mic, making a drunken smile when his nose caught wafts of floral from feeling the man’s smooth, soft hair. 

A tap of the mic in front of the man makes a thudding noise and he retracts from it, “Sorry. I don’t often sing in front of a live audience.” He teases.

Butterflies were chomping down on Lance’s organs, but he was enjoying it and smiled back. “First time for everything, man.” 

“Oh, it’s not exactly my first time...just in front of a live audience.” The man winks, and Lance was desperate to know what the man meant by that. 

And then the music started playing. 

“You are….my fire.” Lance sings, sliding a blue gaze to the side catching raven black hair flowing with the melody. 

“The one….desire..” And Lance thought all wars on Earth had ended, because the man had the voice of an angel. Keep fucking going, he thought and smiled the brightest effing smile he thought he had ever made in his life. 

In unison they both sing, “Believe when I say...I want it that way.” 

Being on stage with the gorgeous stranger felt like being in a rocket ship shooting up to the moon. He never wanted to come down. It was like a high he never had before, and he needed, wanted, craved more of him, more of his voice. 

As the music finally quieted, they both smiled to each other, shoulders tensing up to their ears when they hear applause and whooping, even a loud whistle far in the back. Lance caught Ry clapping in light speed, the smile spread across his face lighting up behind the bar. Going back to Blue Lion Bar tonight was the best decision he ever made, and now how to leave it with an angel in tow. 

They head back to the bar, sit down on their seats and are met with two drinks. “On the house boys, you killed it. We’re gonna need you back here again next Saturday, Blue.” Ry winks at Lance, “And bring your friend again, he’s got some pipes.” 

He sure does, Lance thinks, that drunken smile still pinned to his tan face, which was becoming very hard to wipe away so he decided to keep it on even though he didn't feel drunk. Just drunk on love songs. 

“So..” Lance starts, taking a sip of his drink. Pools of black and indigo find him, and he becomes a puddled mess. “Can I-uh..Can I get a name now?” He slided closer to the man with his elbow, turning the nozzle on his loverboy charm up to max. This one was not, not going to slip away. 

The man played around with his drink, that smile presenting itself to Lance. “Only if I can get your number?” He winks, and Lance is shot with cupid’s arrow when he witnesses the flirting he never thought he needed until now. 

He shakes away his drunk on loveness and takes a deep breath in. It’s obvious the man just got out of a bad breakup and Lance did not want to be his rebound, or- shaking away the thought again. “That wasn’t the deal Mr. Mullet Man. One song, then I got your name. You want my number, then I’m going to need another song, from you.” Lance smirks at his diabolic plan. 

Lance was met with the man smirking in his glass, wiping the alcoholic drink running down his chin, his chest going into overdrive at the sight. “Fine.” He says, a corner of his lip shooting up with eagerness. 

“In private.” Lance insists. 

A thick black brow shoots up instantly on the gorgeous man. “I like the sound of that.” 

“Perfect.” Lance coos, his eyes burning brightly with want. 

“Then I know just the place.” 

  
  


* * *

“Lance! Are you sure about this? Isn’t this breaking and entering!?” Keith whisper-shouted at Lance, trying to get his stern voice through to the long limbed latino who was climbing up a fire escape. 

When Lance had negotiated with Keith that led him to sing a solo for the obviously handsome tan man with the alluring eyes, he never would have thought that he’d find himself sneaking up a fire escape in the dead of night and witness his companion pry open a window on what seemed to be the fourth floor of an old building. 

He heard a grunt, and a couple pants, but the window finally made a gap large enough for the two of them to slide through. Lance dove in first, standing on the other side of the window wearing a mischievous grin towards Keith. A million critters were scampering around in his belly when he witnessed that smirk and he almost felt like heaving himself off the fire escape. 

“Relax, Mullet Man. I’ve done this a million times!” Lance reassured him, but that only made Keith worry, no, panic even more. He was not ready to go to prison. 

“Breaking into people’s houses!? Why are we even here, Lance? Wouldn’t it have sufficed for me to just have sung you a song, I don’t know, outside the bar and be done with it?” Keith countered, and he knew he had no other choice than to heave his legs over the window ledge, he wanted to know more about the mysterious, wacky Lance and if he had to break into someone’s house to get to know him, believable enough, he’d do it. He was doing it right now for crying out loud! 

“Hey, I wanted you all to myself, and this was the perfect and only place I could think of when it came to song. Feast your eyes, Mullet Man, we’re going to have a night.” Lance disappeared in the dark room, and Keith’s rapidly beating heart picked up its pace a notch or two and that was all he could hear for the next ten seconds, the pounding of his heart thundering in his head. 

It was making him woozy, like the shots he had earlier that night were resurfacing in his bloodstream giving him a new high of intoxication, even though he hadn’t drunk anything for the last hour or so. He knew he was sobering up, but this new felon side of Keith was causing an explosion in his head, and he didn’t know if he was enjoying it or was scared shitless by it. 

Not only that, he didn't know this Lance person. All he knew was that it was his face, his body, that fucking smile and his voice that brought him here. What if he was going to go all  _ Dexter  _ on Keith? 

He panicked. “Lance! Are you going to kill me!? I mean, we’re in a dark room, which we’ve basically broken into and I hardly know you. Hell, we met like two hours ago!” Keith was shouting nonsense into a dark room, not knowing if Lance could even hear him. 

When he received no response, he walked deeper into the room, ready to take someone down if they were going to flay him alive. The light went on, and Keith jumped in surprise, his fists up in a fighting stance. “Relax, Mullet Man. Don’t assume the worst in everything. Live a little.” He heard Lance’s voice behind him, and a low laugh following him seconds after. 

It was a typical and annoying trait Keith had inherited from his mother. He always assumed the worst in people, even himself. Why he was like this, beat him, but he had been let down on one, too many occasions that he didn’t have the trait to trust people anymore. Not after...well, his boyfriend dumping his ass was one thing, but there were more times to count on one hand to say the least. 

Keith took in the lit up room. It looked like a music room from a school, but more refined, more, private. On one side he found chairs set up for an orchestra, and on the other side a piano, drum set, and a large desk where he found Lance leaned against staring at a pile of papers that were set neatly on top of it. 

Behind the papers he was studying, Lance made an innocent smile, the hues of blue in his eyes resembling a calm ocean wave. Keith’s heart went back to a normal rate when they locked gazes, and he finally had the decency to smile back. 

“Besides, if I was going to kill you, I wouldn’t have done it at work…” Lance chuckled. 

A string of emotion flared in Keith’s chest as his eyes grew wide in realization. “Wait, you work here!? Ever heard of a fucking key!?” Keith shouted with all the air inside his lungs, since now that he knew that he wasn’t technically breaking and entering he could go off with a bang at the tan man.

Lance had his face scrunched up when he heard Keith’s loud retort hit him. He breathed out through his nose, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, no duh. I didn’t have it on me, and I didn’t want to take you to my place...for certain reasons we don’t need to go into right now. Just trust me, okay!?” Lance had his arms crossed, his ankles too while he was still leaned against his desk. He looked good, even better so when Keith learned he was a vocal instructor and a conductor at times. 

When the words  _ trust me  _ soared into his head, he saw hot flashes of all the times he did trust someone and how they broke his heart, every single one of them. But with Lance, he didn’t know, but something inside of him was telling him to trust one more person, and that maybe this time, he won’t regret it. 

He was leaning on the flat side of the piano, staring hard at Lance, wondering, contemplating what he wanted to do. They were just going to sing, not like they were getting married or anything. Hell, he knew he wasn’t even ready for such a commitment, the longest relationship he ever had lasted only six months. 

What’s one night then?

Keith turned on his winning smile, and walked towards Lance with his hand outstretched. Lance peered down to Keith’s fair-skinned hand, he was always told that his hands and fingers were made to play piano; long, delicate, fragile looking. 

He jerked his hand up a couple times for Lance to take the fucking hint. Lance grabbed it, and warmth spread from the tips of Keith’s delicate fingers, stretching and forming a path all the way up to his neck, to his cheeks, brushing a dusty paint of red on them. “Name’s Keith, by the way.” 

* * *

“Keith.” Lance smiled his name, and fireworks were going off in someone’s chest, or it could be a car backfiring outside the window but no one in the room was paying attention. All either of them wanted to focus on was each other. Alone in a music room, away from anything that spelled trouble, or tedious or anything else that started with a t basically. 

Lance was staring at Keith in wonder, tilting his brown head to the side, closing his eyes, resembling a child, “I like Mullet Man better.” They both broke out into a series of chuckles.

“Too bad, I gave you a song so you’re calling me Keith. Whether you like it or not.” He forced out a bit too harsh. He wasn’t a huge fan of the nickname Lance decided for him, but he knew it was partly his fault as he did have a long mullet for a hairstyle, not his fault he knew he looked good with it, was what reeled his last boyfriend in. 

A pang of hurt shot in his chest, the memory of his ex boyfriend finding him in his wandering mind. He pushed the picture of his face aside and replaced it with a tan one, wearing a dorky, goofy smile and eyes so blue they could take up 80 percent of the Earth.  _ Fuck him _ , Keith thought and pulled himself back to the music room, Lance’s office of all places.

“Hey, Mullet Man?” Keith found himself searching the room to where Lance had now positioned himself. 

The lights had been dimmed and in one corner, one that Keith couldn’t see because it was too dark, there was a chaise lounging about. Why there was a chaise of all things in a music room was on Keith, but he trailed the smooth voice all the way to Lance’s peachy lips, and the rest of him getting comfortable on the chaise. 

Lance tapped a hand on an open space next to him, quite close in Keith’s opinion as the chaise was barely made for a full grown man. Keith shakily made his way over to the dark corner, and fell down on his bottom on the comfy dark wine-red chaise, next to Lance, with their hips were touching. 

Someone must have poured hot coffee down his throat because things were getting steamy. Lance was resting against the chaise’s back, his body swung until his legs were spread out long on each side of Keith’s hips. The most practical way to sit would be if Keith turned around so his back was rested against Lance’s chest, but….a new heat pricked his cheeks at the thought and he decided to stay put sitting upright on the long end, avoiding any sudden inappropriate movements. 

“Tell me, Keith.” Lance said his name this time, indicating that he was going to be serious. “What happened? Why did you wander into Blue Lion tonight?” He was smoothing his thighs in the darkly lit room, throwing a corner of his mouth up when they locked stares. 

Keith flared his nose trying hard to forget all the bullshit that happened to him recently, but if it was that obvious to read on him then he might as well let it all out. “It’s that obvi-?” He chuckled, and he noticed Lance staying quiet, giving him space to speak up. 

“You know what, I promised you a song, and I think the song can help generate my feelings. How does that sound?” Keith obliged, searching the room for a microphone stand or anything, but he felt a hand gripping his wrist, craning his neck capturing a calm ocean helping him stay put and open a sunken bottle of courage. 

Lance blinked. “You have an amazing voice, Keith. I think you can do acapella alright.” 

Acapella?  _ Fine, okay, _ Keith had done acapella before and it did grab many hits, so it might not suck that much. Although, he did wish he had his equipment with him, it made him feel safe with his voice, like he had something to bounce back on in case his voice made a crack or a pitchy tone. 

He made a deep inhale through his nose. He hated performing live, that’s why he never did live videos on his instagram, or go live on his channel. Being able to sing alone at home, then edit with his software, made singing easier. Even though he loved singing so much, it sometimes bit him back when certain untrustworthy memories found him, but song was everything and he just couldn’t cut that part of his life out. He needed the music, and the music needed him. All 270K of it. 

Lance kicked his knee on Keith’s hip causing him to silently jump with his thigh, but his heart was leaping everywhere at the impact. He shot Lance a glare that he was getting started and to have patience. A blue wink coursed his way and tranquility eased within him. 

“I walk a lonely road, the only one that I have ever known….Don’t know where it goes but it’s only me and I walk alone.” Keith sang, his voice raspy but harmonious. The melody was inside him, and it came out wonderful, he should try acapella more often, maybe he’ll run through it in the comments. 

He caught Lance’s smile faltering from the song choice, but he bopped his head slowly all the same and urged Keith to go on. 

“My shadow’s the only one that walks beside me. My shallow heart’s the only thing that’s beating…” Tears were pricking Keith’s ducts, and he had to look away before Lance was led on to his fragile state. 

While singing the song, too many memories that he had suppressed deep within the cavity of his heartspace appeared before him.  _ His  _ funeral,  _ her _ shouting, his  _ brother  _ walking away on him. Loneliness becoming his only friend until a rød microphone, a video camera and editing software rescued him from his new companion. 

“Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me.” Keith glances at Lance, heart resting in his throat, sparks flying in his fingertips, “Till then I walk alone..” 

* * *

Lance crouches down, and bends over to grab Keith by his shoulders, reading the sad tone in his voice. His arms gently smoothed their way around Keith’s waist, and he nuzzled his head in the space between his shoulder and jaw, his mullet tickling Lance’s face when Keith heard a breathy chuckle leave his nostrils. 

Together they both sang, “Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah…” 

As their voices died down, Keith let out all the tension he had built up inside of him over the course of three years and finally slumped back into Lance’s chest, letting the tears that were welling up slide down his cheeks. 

A sense of forgotten calmness seeped over him when he felt Lance rubbing his hands on Keith’s stomach, his arms growing tighter, like he never wanted to let him go. Safe.

Is this what it feels like to be safe? 

“I think there was more than a bad break up behind the song, Keith. Wanna talk about it?” Lance asks, and continues to sooth Keith with his hands, his face resting on Keith’s cheek, a smile blooming on the both of them.

Even if they had only known each other a few hours, Keith was ready for more. He wanted days, months, maybe even years having this feeling. A feeling of want, acceptance. He could tell Lance everything, but he was scared of the outcome. His mother shouted at him and shot off her feelings towards it all. Shiro, his brother, wanted nothing to do with it and told him to choose a different path, one that wouldn’t end up in flames. 

And his father. 

Well, his father didn’t have a choice when he was taken from Keith. 

He thought being together with James would keep all the bad memories away. Loving someone like he thought he did with James was supposed to extract all the bad memories, and replace them with ones of him and James together. But, in the end, when music was his only savior, James called it quits. And in the worst possible way. 

“I-I can’t trust people, Lance. Not after being let down on too many occasions. No one understands what goes on in my head. Song, the music is all I have to feel like myself.” Keith drags out of him, and it felt nice to tell someone these feelings out loud, like his head was clearing up. 

Lance didn’t make a sound. Keith thought he was good, because he continued. “I haven’t spoken to my mother or brother in the past three years...They- they didn’t believe in me, in what I wanted to pursue. I have a good thing going on, and it’s growing, more and more for each day I put out a song...It’s just that, they think I can’t make it, that me being too private is going to turn everything I’ve built into dust…” Keith was just shooting out words till now, he didn’t think about what he was saying, let alone tell Lance what he was actually talking about. 

“Wait a minute...I thought your voice sounded familiar...you’re saying that you’re…” Lance deadpanned, grabbing Keith’s jaw to pull his face to look Lance in the eyes. “You’re him…” Lance beamed, “You’re Kay Kogane, that Youtube singer, I listen to ALL of your songs..Holy shit, what- how did I not- sorry, I’m starstrucked.” 

Flickers of heat was touching Keith’s cheeks when he received the sudden outburst of praise from Lance. He never thought someone would figure him out, but, alas, Lance was too good at recognizing voices, being a vocal coach and all. It even flattered Keith that he listened to his channel. 

He smiled, a real nice toothy one, too. “You guessed it.” 

“I’m still in awe, man. I’m cuddling-fucking cuddling with a Youtube star-”

“Shut up, don’t make me blush more than I already am...and I’m not a Youtube _ star _ ...my channel has like barely 300K subs-” 

Lance flicked his nose, hard. “Fuck you, man. If I had 270K subs- I’d do a happy dance every night before I went to bed. That’s amazing, and so well deserved because you have the voice of a fucking angel...angel of darkness that is..” He snickered. 

Then Lance stepped into a dark territory. “So why all the secrecy on who you are? I bet if you showed your face, you’d get like triple the subs-” 

Keith shifted on the chaise, turning around until he was face to face with Lance, his legs entangled with long limbs. “My first video was posted with me in the shadows, and it hit like a thousand views in two days. Then I uploaded a new video again with me in the shadows and it continued from there. I got comments from people saying they liked how it was just my voice they could focus on, and that the darkness, the contours of my face became a thing they could paint a picture while listening to the song. I’ve received art from people where they have drawn what they think my face looks like while listening to me sing. Someone once said, staring at my videos is like reading a book, they create their own vision and interpretation of the song, and I loved that...So, I kept at it.” 

Lance made a humming noise, staring up at the ceiling in wonder. “I still think they should see your face, they’re missing out.” He winked a blue eye at Keith. 

“Speaking of missing out. I gave you a song, now I need your number. I was hoping we could maybe...see each other again?” Keith ran his teeth along his lower lip, the lilac in his eyes bursting with want. 

A look of confusion washed over Lance. “How come I’ve never seen you here before. I mean, I’d remember this…” He gestured to all of Keith, “but no bait.” 

Keith pursed his lips, disappointed that Lance wouldn’t give him his number. Instead, he had to tread back into bad memory lane. “I recently moved here, like a week ago. I needed a secluded place to get away and focus on my music. When I caught my boyfriend... _ ex  _ boyfriend being fucked by some other guy, I couldn't take it anymore. So I grabbed my things, not much...and left. I had no one holding me back, so I thought a fresh start was all I needed, and here I am.” 

“Here you are.” Lance smiled, and started to lean in. 

Surges of warmth grabbed hold of Keith’s cheeks, spreading like wildfire all over his face and downwards his neck when Lance’s hands grabbed hold of his face. The kiss was hesitant at first. Lance’s lips were soft pressed up against Keith’s, he made low hum of pleasure at the sudden careful impact. A corner of Lance’s mouth shot up to the side still pressed against Keith’s mouth, and then they both deepened the kiss, opening their mouths, parting ways for a sublime blur of pleasure to take hold of them. 

They couldn't stop. Once their lips met, it was like listening to your favorite song on repeat, except you never got tired of it. When that bridge of a song comes on, and your whole body tenses up to let the chills ride along your spine, making the hairs on your arms and neck rise, that’s how it felt, their kiss. 

Keith pulled back, breathing heavily, Lance breathing back at him. 

Their eyes locked, and they dove back in, pressing harder, mouths slicking up into sloppy kisses of desperation. More, more, more. They were captured by the music, and never wanted to be released. Keith was lost in translation trying to figure out Lance’s lips with his tongue, it all felt so good, he was intoxicated by kissing Lance, he was a drug and the remedy to his sorrows. Exactly what he needed. 

At long last, they parted ways and Keith missed Lance’s lips like a band being broken up. “Woah..that was-”

“Fucking amazing.” Lance finished his sentence, breaking into a wide grin. “We should do this more often.” He adds, tugging onto Keith’s black t-shirt for a chaste kiss to his unchapped lips. 

“Then I’m going to need your number.” Keith cooed. 

Lance rolled his eyes at Keith, kissing him once more before releasing his hold on him, but before he could release him, he had a second thought as he dragged those rosy lips back to his peachy ones. He needed more of Keith, and Keith wasn’t going to say no, he needed those kisses just as much as the other. 

“Lance, we...need...to...stop…” Keith said against Lance’s mouth, laughing uncontrollably, happiness finding his chest, his face. Man, it had been a while since Keith was this happy and he loved every single second of it. 

Thinking about it, he was still hurt from his recent break up, and he wanted Lance to know that he won’t become a rebound. “Listen Lance. I know we just met, and we’ve done like that, which was amazing by the way. I need you to know, that this, us…” Keith’s voice cracked when he caught Lance’s face twisting into something like a kicked puppy. 

“Dude, let me finish. I’m not going to use you as a rebound. I really like you, even though I hardly know you, but, I want to get to know you...I think I can finally say that..” Keith smiled lovingly at Lance, picturing what the future might hold if he played the right love song. Lance smiled back, and Keith’s heart soared at the sight when he said, “That my shadow won’t be the only one that walks besides me anymore.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know your favorite love song!! 
> 
> Mine has to be: I won't say I'm in love from Hercules, I'm a sad sap I know and I love Hercules to bits.


End file.
